


No Running

by spellwing777



Category: Watchmen (Comic), Watchmen - All Media Types
Genre: Apologies and feels, Dan grows a spine, Gen, Rorschach is an asshole
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-19
Updated: 2015-08-19
Packaged: 2018-04-15 12:44:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4607217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spellwing777/pseuds/spellwing777
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eventually, Rorschach’s right-wing views get a little <i>too</i> personal.</p>
            </blockquote>





	No Running

_Yes, it is true_  
_that I can run very fast;_  
_But it is also true_  
_that I am a Jew..._  
_There's no running, from the Holocaust._

Tale of a Sprinter, in the Winter of 1938-Sudeep Pagedar

\---

The rustling of the paper was distracting; but not half as much as the headline on it.

 _‘Kike Konspiracy!’_ It was in bold. It practically screamed at him. He barely kept himself from twitching; trying resolutely to ignore it.  
He knew his partner was a conservative and a nationalist; but not much else. He’d avoided discussions about politics and religion; knowing those were the two topics that could bring about screaming matches (they certainly had with his father; and those were some really unpleasant memories) and he really didn’t want that same anger to wedge itself into their partnership. But, as his partner sat next to him in Archie with his nose in a paper that had a big-nosed caricature on the third page, he had a feeling it was inevitable.

He swallowed; his grip on the steering column white-knuckled.

When he looked over at his partner again, Rorschach had lifted his head to stare at him. He cocked his head, curious.

“Something bothering you, Nite Owl?”

Daniel swallowed a sharp retort. “Why do you ask?”

“Been quiet all patrol.” The paper rustled as he turned to the next page; the ugly cartoon now exposed and staring back at him with beady, avaricious eyes.

“Thinking.” Dan managed not to grit his teeth. “That...article you’re reading. What’s it about?”

He regretted it the minute the question was out of his mouth. He knew that there was just some topics that would start a fight; and also, he knew his partner was pretty conservative, meaning the likelihood that he actually _agreed_ with...well. He didn’t want his suspicions confirmed; he’d rather keep the benefit of the doubt.

But he’d asked the damn question, so Dan braced himself for the answer.

“Hrrm.” _Rustle, rustle,_ went the paper, and Dan twitched. “Henry Ford republished the ‘Protocols of the Elders of Zion’. Seems to document the minuets of a meeting among Jewish leaders discussing their goal of global domination by subverting our morals and controlling the press and economy.”

“...Henry Ford.” Dan grimaced, feeling like he’d swallowed something bitter.

“Good American.” Rorschach nodded approvingly, missing his grimace. “Concerned America might be infested with Jewish immigrants looking to supplant the government. Turn it into a puppet for their own ends.”

Dan flinched at the _their_ in his rant; the distancing language that so easily turned a group of people into cartoons, into caricature. He looked over at his partner, his _friend_ who fought next to him night after night; stitched up wounds and shared coffee with him.

“Also says the media has been overrun with Jews; using it to send subversive messages.” He was nodding along with this, and continued on, his voice rising a little as he warmed to his subject. “Would explain increase in violence and sexual liberalism in television. Also gives statistics; a disproportionate number of the rich and corporate leaders are Jewish. Seems Ford’s warnings are coming true.”

“...I’m rich.” He said, insinuating, and Rorschach just ‘hrrmed’ vaguely, ignoring him in favor of looking at the cartoon.

Dan felt sick. He wasn’t angry now, just...disappointed. Rorschach was intelligent; he’d seen that brilliant mind at work on crime scenes, and he just didn’t get why a man that sharp could swallow all of that bullshit. And...he felt vaguely betrayed.

When Rorschach flipped the paper around and gesticulated at the article, starting to rant on about it, the cartoon on the other side was revealed in all of its hideous glory; and Dan wondered if Rorschach really saw all Jewish people-saw his own partner-as this hook nosed ugly creature.

“Article also stressed that we must remain vigilant against their subversive threats; immigration of Jews from Europe seeking to outnumber us and-”

“My father...” Rorschach jerked his head up at the interruption, and Dan trailed off briefly; before sucking in a breath and forcing himself to continue.

“My father was an immigrant.” Rorschach cocked his head, looking about ready to say something; but Dan stared back, unwaveringly, and he went silent again.

“My father came here from Germany; just before the Second World War started.” He said, gently. “He worked hard; opened up a bank, the only one, at the time, that would accept immigrant customers. It’s how he got rich.”

“Was following the American dream, Daniel.” Rorschach cut in, clearly wondering where this was going. “Not all immigrants are so admirable; some may have ulterior motives. Ford cautions against potential Zionist infiltrators-”

“My father was also Jewish.” Dan said, remarkably calm. He paused, let it sink in, before continuing.

“He immigrated because in Germany, there was a lot of discrimination. It had always been there, but when the Nazi party came around, he was afraid. Neighbors, friends...didn’t matter. Suddenly all of them were muttering about how Jews horded money; about how they were to blame for the terrible economy and how all Jews were conspiring to overthrow the government.” He said, staring at the caricature on the newspaper. Rorschach looked too; at the distorted face with its pig like eyes.

“He came to America because he thought he’d be safe from that kind of thing.” Dan grimaced, remembering. “But one day I came home from school crying because some kids in my class had pushed me around, calling me ‘kike’ and wondering if I’d fit in an oven; stupid shit like that. I didn’t even understand the insults. I was more upset that they’d pushed me than anything else.”

“When I asked my dad what that word meant; I’d never seen him go so white.”

The tense silence was so thick it could be cut with a knife. Both stayed quiet the rest of the ride to the spot Nite Owl usually dropped him off; and when the stairs lowered, Rorschach paused awkwardly at the exit, staring back at him. Dan said nothing, not a word, until he was off the ramp and standing on the roof of the abandoned warehouse.

“He left his home to escape prejudice.” He said, softly. “But I guess there’s no running from that; is there?”

There is nothing else to say, not to that, as the door hisses shut in Rorschach’s face.

\---

The next night Dan is still quiet; just glancing up briefly when he comes through the tunnel entrance, and not saying a word in greeting as he slides on his cowl. Rorschach doesn’t speak either, but he does cautiously approach. He pauses at the edge of Nite Owl’s range, and cocks his head; evaluating him. After a moment he slides closer, shoulders hunched, and hands him what looks like a rolled up newspaper.

He flinches when he sees it’s the New Frontiersman, and if this is another article about ‘kike conspiracies’ they are _done_ -

But it’s not. Front and center is a glorious, page-sized photo of them at one of their more public busts, and next to them is a rather flowery article about these ‘upstanding Americans, defenders of justice’ and he’s not the detective in their partnership, but he can’t help but notice that the age of the article is old and it’s been folded over and creased a lot. _Read and re-read until it’s falling apart-_

“Apologies for...insinuations. Didn’t mean to upset you.” He looked up at Rorschach, and the guy shifts from foot to foot under his gaze. “Realize now that such generalized statements might not be accurate.”

He falters, and finally yanks his mask up to his nose and crunched on a sugar cube, obviously trying to cut down on the discomfort he was feeling. Dan wordlessly rolled the paper back up, and handed it back. Smiling warmly now, he gave his partner a gentle squeeze on the shoulder.

“What say we start patrol buddy?”


End file.
